The Pain of Memories
by sarahseptember
Summary: Harry is sent to Azkaban on false terms. What will happen to him when his innocence is proven? Will he ever recover? Forgive?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: To whom it may concern, this is my first harry potter fanfic. I know I know, its just another rendition of a storyline created by someone probably smarter than me, but, if that bothers you, just don't read this story or something. Reviews would be greatly appreciated as my motivation for writing isn't normally all that strong. If I don't get a good enough response I'll just lose interest. Sooo… on with the story!

The Pain of Memories

Chapter One

Prisoner 24601 knew he had gone insane long ago. Or maybe as he would have put it, he was bloody mad. He remembered everything of his previous life before the days of Azkaban. He remembered the good and the bad, and with all the free time he had, he thought. Apparently, when your life is as tough as his, too much thought can lead to severe instability of mind. Then again, he didn't seem to mind the presence of other people in his head. Nor the morbid images that he managed to conjure up, even without Voldemort's help. In this forsaken hellhole, why would one know, or care if another inmate went mad?

However, Prisoner 24601, or better known as Harry Potter, was different from the other inmates. He was innocent.

For the past three years he had been subjected to visions, memories and pains too great for the human mind to handle capably. They all spun around in his head over and over before he finally had to create new ways of thinking to avoid them.

Auror Ronald Weasley was at least somewhat aware of this as he strode quickly through the dank hallways of the depressing hellhole. He had been given the terrible task of transporting his traitor ex-best friend to the Order Headquarters, still located at 12 Grimmauld Place.

The war was going poorly for the Light forces. Almost every day found one less member of the Order around, or another one of the remaining wizarding towns destroyed. It was because of the bleak times and hopelessness that lead Ron to be at the dark prison today.

His orders were to bring Harry back to the headquarters for interrogation. Dumbledore, aware of Harry's visions of Voldemort had decided that it was time to throw caution to the winds and do anything possible to try and get that information. Even if it meant releasing one of the most dangerous dark wizards alive.

Ron's step was brisk as he contemplated the encounter with trepidation. This could not end well.

He arrived at the small dank cell with no problems and stood for a moment looking in. The small huddled character with long hair and dirty clothes was a far cry from the healthy teen boy he had been. The tall young adult felt a pang of sadness accompanied with a memory of the great betrayal he had felt upon learning that his best friend had turned dark.

Approaching the cell he shoved all emotions deep within himself and confronted the criminal.

"Prisoner 24601, your presence is required by Albus Dumbledore as any information you may possess on the whereabouts and or actions of the Dark Lord is necessary for the victory of the Light."

Keeping things official, Ron stood straight to attention awaiting Harry's response.

"So the old fool finally realized it." Harry's raspy voice rang out as his head lifted and his mothers bright green eyes shone through the gloom of the cell. "Yes he has. Can't win without Potter. Golden Boy. That's what they called him. Nope. No savior here. Just a shell. That's all he is."

Ron watched, disturbed as his former friend started talking and muttering to himself. After all, hearing voices isn't a good thing. Even in the wizarding world.

Shaking his head he sighed at the hopelessness of the situation. Nonetheless he said in a strong voice, "You're coming with me, sane or not."

Mad anger shone in the green eyes. "Who said he's not sane? We all know that the boy-who-bloody-wouldn't-die is perfectly sane. It's your lot that's nutters! 'Twas the bloody death eaters that killed Hagrid that's who! Death Eaters… how can you eat death? Methinks that old Moldywarts is more insane than any of Dumblydore's little birdies."

Having had enough of this, Ron unlocked the cell door and raised his wand to stun Harry for transportation. Right before the spell had left his lips a rocking explosion shook the entire building. The scrawny prisoner took advantage of his imbalance and was down the hall before Ron had reached his feet again. Cursing, Ron sprinted after Harry as fast as he could. A tiny bit of him was grudgingly admiring Harry's fitness despite his three-year stay in a small cell.

Turning a corner, he was suddenly blinded by the unexpected light of day. A large hole had been blown through the side of the large thick walls of the supposedly impenetrable fortress.

Ron looked about in bewilderment for a moment before fully realizing the situation. A large army of Death Eaters had assembled on the dark shores of the island, led by none other than the Dark Lord Voldemort himself.

A couple of the higher ranked Death Eaters were now accompanying Harry on his journey up to the evil conqueror. Ron looked on with a small amount of surprise as he watched his former friend walk straight up to the greatest enemy of the Light. Some part of him had always hoped it was a hoax, that Harry had never really betrayed them. This was undeniable proof.

Voldemort smiled cruelly as he watched the emaciated form of Harry Potter walk slowly towards him. Suddenly the air was filled with cracks as a regiment of Ministry Aurors and the entire Order of the Phoenix including Dumbledore himself apparated to the bleak shores of the desolate island.

Confused for a moment, Dumbledore was able to take into account the current events just as Voldemort was handing Harry a wand. Smirking as he handed over the wooden stick he sneered, "Not as good as you're own, but for now it will suffice. Your task is to help me in destroying all of those who have wronged you. Starting with the old coot over there." Voldemort glanced derisively towards Dumbledore.

Harry lifted his hand to look at the wand he now had in his grasp. Just as he had on his first trip to Diagon Alley, he wondered how such an innocuous object could hold the power to cause so much pain and destruction. However, upon further thought, it seemed that his former friends had needed no magic at all to torment him in the worst ways possible.

Rousing himself from his musing with a shake of his head, Harry locked eyes with his former mentor.

As Dumbledore looked into Harry's eyes, he could not help but shudder at the depths of pain and madness he saw.

Voldemort decided to take that moment to speak up. "Albus, you have failed again. You failed me, and now you have failed your own savior. Three long years ago, Harry was found holding the wand that had killed the half-giant Hagrid. You convinced yourself that for the good of the wizarding world you must lock up such a vicious criminal, especially one with such power."

Here Voldemort smiled cruelly, "Such power! Dumbledore, you signed you own death upon driving him away from you! Another innocent, sentenced to life in Hell!"

Harry turned his blank eyes to the now laughing Dark Lord. Stepping up to the powerful Wizard, he put his face up close to the others. His face completely devoid of emotion, he spoke slowly in a raspy voice, "Do you know what they say? They say one has to die. Only then can many more die. Die in pain, die in peace, all of them dead and dead for good. Everyone."

His thin and scrawny arm whipped out with incredible speed and strength to grip the older mans neck in a tight stranglehold. For a moment the startled Dark Lord stood there, before raising his wand to stop Harry from killing him. This effort proved futile however as he found himself devoid of magic.

Harry slowly shook his head from side to side. "Tch tch tch, no magic for the baddies. That's what they say and that's what he does." Several of the braver Death eaters stepped up to save their lord but suddenly found themselves stopped by an impenetrable invisible wall. Harry giggled madly, "No more death munching for you."

Voldemort's once bright red eyes were clouding over in death as he managed to choke out a last insult, "… Damn… you…"

Harry's face fell into disappointment at the older wizards choice of words. "That's all you have to say? How lame." He squeezed much tighter all of the sudden and all those present shuddered at the sound of bones breaking as the Dark Lord's neck was snapped in two.

Dumbledore had been frozen throughout the entire exchange as Voldemort's words echoed in his head. 'Another innocent, sentenced to life in hell…' His thoughts could be adequately summed up as 'Oh Shit.'

Voldemort's lifeless carcass fell to the ground a moment before Harry fell to his knees. Dumbledore looked on worriedly at the shuddering teen until a disturbing sound reached his ears. Harry was hunched over, one hand on the ground and the other covering one half of his face. His pupils were dilated and eyes open wide. His mouth twisted into a disturbing and malicious grin as his lips parted to give way to the haunting laugh that emitted from them. The deep cackling once again froze all those present in fear, for they could not only hear the madness, but they could also feel the immense power radiating from the small body.

Harry's hand whipped out, slashing the air in the direction of the masses of Death Eaters a short ways away. Screams of the injured and dying drowned out all other sound as bodies were savagely and slowly torn apart, limb from limb. Blood covered the bleak shores, running down the gray beaches to tinge the water red. Many younger aurors and Order members either feinted or became sick at the smell as it reached their innocent noses.

Harry continued to slash viciously at the air ripping the masses of evil wizards to shreds. This is the day when the prison of Azkaban earned its newest legend, for people in years to come will always claim to hear the echoing laugh and dying screams that could now be heard. And I'm not just talking about the crazy ones.

Every Death Eater was now dead, and all of Voldemort's forces destroyed in a few devastating moments.

Dumbledore came to his senses at the sound of Ron retching nearby, to see Harry standing in the middle of a circle ten feet in diameters, of clean soil. Everything beyond that was stained crimson. Strengthening his resolve, Albus started making his way over to the dark teen.

As Harry watched the tall white haired headmaster approach him, his eyes clouded over as he lost himself in his own memories.

Dumbledore's face swam into view, "Sirius would be so disappointed Mr. Potter. The consequences to your actions shall be grave indeed."

_Ron's visage, red with anger shouted at him, "You traitor! How could you kill Hagrid? I thought you were my friend!" Harry recoiled as the enraged redhead threw his Firebolt to the ground before engulfing it in flames._

_The worst had yet to come, as the ever-intelligent Hermione used her knowledge and insight to cause the most damage. "This is what you get for betraying our trust," she spat. A large leather book joined the smoking Firebolt. At this point Harry cried out and struggled to escape the Aurors grasps. He was stuck down and bound tightly with magical ropes, forced to watch, tears streaming down his face as his photo album, his last remaining link to his parents disappeared in the smoke._

_It wasn't me! You've got it wrong! His mouth moved silently as he had been spelled speechless. The last thing he saw before being dragged away to a lifetime of misery was Remus Lupin calling out to him, trying to save him from his fate…_

Harry frowned darkly. He had almost forgotten that last part. Well, he would have to talk to the werewolf sometime in the near future. Before he could worry about that however…

"Harry? Harry are you all right?"

Harry raised his blank green eyes at his former headmaster. "Dumbles thinks he can talk to us. Silly old crackpot. Didn't talk last time, did he? When it would have meant something…"

"Harry, it's all over now. This new evidence proves you innocent. You are a free man Harry!" Dumbledore gestured fiercely hoping that he hadn't totally lost the mind of who could very well be the strongest wizard alive.

"No no no little Dumblydore. I shall not be you brainless pawn any longer. I'm too strong for that! Can you not see it?" Cackling again Harry raised his hand to look at it through green speckled black eyes. A deadly force surrounded his flesh, the same color as the deadly _Avada Kadavra_ curse.

Dumbledore stepped back in fear, wincing as a tendril of the power whipped out and slashed his cheek.

Ron had regained his composure and rose to his knees. "Harry! I'm sorry! Please stop this!"

Harry stopped for a moment turning to face his former best friend. The memory of his firebolt burning resurfaced and with a yell, the green aura disappeared as Harry collapsed to the ground in pain. Pain his own mind had manifested at the agony of the memory.

Dumbledore took that opportunity. "Stupefy!"

The screaming man fell to the earth into a silence that echoed across the bloodied beach.

Dumbledore bent to gather Harry's thin form in his arms. His voice sounded tired as he addressed the aurors and Order members. "Go home, tell no one about this. I will take care of everything."

Nobody moved until finally one crack filled the void. A couple more followed until a few moments later when there was once again silence.

Ron picked himself up and approached the headmaster.

"We will return to Grimmauld Place and take care of his health. Ron, I need you to tell everyone of the new situation, as I will be busy with Harry."

Ron nodded and apparated back to spread the news of the Dark Lord's demise.

Still looking down at the man in his arms, Dumbledore sighed and did the same.

When Ron appeared in the doorway he found himself bombarded with questions as people flocked around him. To most frequent being, where was Harry?

Ron help up his hand silencing the voices. "Voldemort is dead."

Everyone was stunned into motionlessness for a moment before the volume returned louder this time.

Ron cried out as if in pain and fell to his knees face in his hands as he wept without tears. The voices stopped again and everyone was able to make out his next words.

"We- we were wrong. Again. Another innocent! Sentenced to hell on earth!"

The meaning of his words shocked everyone as they realized whom he was talking about. Off to one side a young brown haired witch fell to the ground in a dead feint as everyone around her fell into their own personal forms of shock and pain. Molly Weasley was seen sobbing on the shoulder of her minister husband, as another young witch with fiery red hair yelled in triumph and sadness.

"I told you he was innocent! You useless excuses of witches and wizards claimed to have known him! You claimed to be his friends and family, and yet what do you do? You sent him to Azkaban knowing what Dementors do to him simply based on circumstantial evidence at best!" Ginny fell to the ground sobbing.

As the many guilty and few non-guilty people in Grimmauld place dealt with the news, one Albus Dumbledore was laying an unconscious Harry Potter in a bed in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts. Already had he sent Fawks to retrieve Madame Pomfrey from the dungeons where she had been brewing healing potions for Professor Snape had been called away on other duties.

Moments later the disheveled nurse stumbled through the doorway only to top and recoil at the sight of the infamous traitor on the bed.

"Albus! What is the meaning of this!"

The headmaster held up a hand looking every day of his 150 some-odd years. "I will tell you the details later Poppy, but it has been recently discovered that this young man has suffered needlessly. I need you to check his physical status."

Poppy gasped in realization before snapping into full nurse mode. Bustling about, she flitted around Harry's bed poking his ribs, fixing his sheets and occasionally waving her wand in complicated patterns, mumbling under her breath. Retreating to her office, she grabbed a few potions and retuned. As she administered them, she explained Harry's condition to Dumbledore.

"He is suffering from extreme emancipation, a few miss healed and still healing bones, and a mild fever from infections. All in all, the physical damage is minimal, considering what it could be, but he will be weak for a long while. I'm giving him a nutrition potion, and blood replenishing potion and a mild healing potion."

Albus sighed in relief and sat down heavily in a chair for visitors by the bed.

Poppy looked at him worriedly. She knew that he wasn't getting any younger and that the whole war had put extreme stress on him. She couldn't bring herself to ask the questions she so wished to ask. As always however, the ancient headmaster seemed to know what she was thinking and began to speak.

"Ron Weasley was sent to retrieve Harry from Azkaban as his connection to Voldemort could be used to help discover his whereabouts. At that moment, Voldemort mounted an attack on the prison and soon had Harry with a wand and me at his mercy. It was then that he revealed Harry's innocence. Harry managed to kill him and every Death Eater present in an awesome display of magic, the likes I have never seen before. He might have continued on to the rest of us on the beach had the sight of Ron not stopped him. It was strange, the very sight and sound of him seemed to trigger something in Harry, because he fell to the ground screaming in pain before I put him to sleep."

Poppy sat down just as heavily as the Headmaster had moments before adopting a pensive look. "In my studies to become a Healer, I once considered taking a job as a physiological Healer. This fancy did not last long, but in my research I remember reading something like this. Victims who have been subjected to prolonged physical or mental pain might show these symptoms even after the pain has stopped. A particularly painful memory triggered by a sight, sound, smell, anything could send the victim into physical pain manifested by his own brain."

Albus looked at the prone figure on the bad and said, "In other words, his memories are so painful that they are actually hurting him."

Poppy looked down and slowly nodded. "I never followed up on that training, so I am not certified to help his physiological state. I have told you of his physical self, and leave you to figure out the rest." The healer closed her eyes in sadness. "I hope, for Harry's sake, that you manage to fix all of this. I am going to finish up the potions in the dungeons and return to keep watch over Harry. If you could watch him until I return."

She left the powerful wizard holding the thin hand of the boy he betrayed, hoping for a good outcome to all of this.

End Chapter One

As said before, please please PLEASE review!


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah-sama updated! Huzzah!

Chapter 2

Clouded green eyes opened blearily before shutting closed quickly at the sight of all that horrendous white. Harry moaned a little at the pain coursing through his body but stopped quickly as he felt a surge of magic rushing in his veins, removing his agony. He paid no heed to the strange sensation, as it had been a common occurrence during his stay in Azkaban.

Dumbledore saw Harry's body tense as he moaned but he then started at the pulse of energy that filled the room before disappearing again. "Harry?"

Harry opened his eyes again, this time with no hesitation. He sat up in the bed showing no signs of the weakness that should follow long-term exposure to dementors. Glaring suspiciously at the man by his bed he voiced a question. "Who are you?" At that moment he grabbed his head as memories flooded his mind. Another second later he struck out at the elderly headmaster who had approached and was about to ask what was wrong.

Dumbledore, taken by surprise felt the stinging blow connect with is arm causing the bone, though strong as the day he reached his magical pinnacle, to break in two.

"Why are you here?" Wild-eyed the young man jumped out of the bed and took up a crouching defensive position, his gaze flickering towards the windows and door.

Dumbledore held up his uninjured arm placating. "Harry! Son its all right. The confrontation with Voldemort proved your innocence! Now get back in bed, you must recover from you experience."

Harry didn't move as his looked at the headmaster with incredulity. "Experience? Experience? Albus, you sent me to Azkaban for _three years_!" He stopped for a moment as if listening to something before turning back to Dumbledore. "Its time for me to leave to leave, so I'm going. Don't try to find me, there might be some severe repercussions."

Dumbledore approached the man and attempted to grab him before he did anything. "Harry wai-"

A split second later he found himself blinking the spots out of his eyes, the after effect of the bright flash of light Harry disappeared in.

Harry reappeared in a shadowy section of Diagon Alley. About to step out into the light, he noticed his attire. At Azkaban, he had worn the same robes that he had worn at the trial. Three years of nightmares, beatings from guards and madness had led them to be torn and dirtied beyond repair. Dumbledore at least had had the presence of mind to change him into a hospital robe. It was clean, but far too conspicuous. Harry simply glared at it for a moment before smirking as it morphed into a black robe and cloak.

Glancing around to make sure no one had seen, he placed the hood over his head, disguising his features, and set off down the road towards Gringotts.

He barely glanced at the warning poem as he entered the large building. Approaching an open desk he addressed the goblin there. "I would like to visit my vault please."

The goblin barely looked up. "Key?"

Harry then noticed that he recognized the goblin in front of him. "I'm sorry Griphook, I believe that Albus Dumbledore currently has possession of my key."

Griphook nearly fell out of his chair in surprise. "How do you know my name?"

"Its kind of hard to forget the name of the first goblin I ever met in the wizarding world. I trust you'll remember my name, now I wish to visit the Potter vault please."

Regaining his composure, Griphook cleared his throat. "Yes, well, Mr. Potter I will need to send you to another goblin, for your vaults are currently being managed by one other than myself. Come this way please."

Harry followed Griphook out of the main lobby and down several twisting hallways, watched all the while by the suspicious gazes of goblin portraits. He paid no heed however, for he was too busy thinking about what little Griphook had told him. 'Vaults?'

His wandering thoughts were quickly brought back to present time when they stopped in front of two large and very ornate gold doors.

They creaked open to reveal an equally large and ornate office. The walls were lined with tapestries and weapons and there were expensive looking sculptures placed at strategic places. The whole room reeked of wealth.

Harry brought his attention to the stern looking goblin sitting behind a large desk in the middle of all the opulence.

The goblin looked down his nose at Harry, a habit that seemed to be shared in the entire species. "Ah yes, Harry Potter. I was wondering when I would be seeing you. Thank you Griphook, you may leave."

Griphook bowed low and left, shutting the doors, which surprisingly made no sound despite their size.

"Now, Mr. Potter, there are a few things I need to explain to you if you would just listen for a few moments. First of all, my name is Frenik Gringott, great-great-great-great-grandson of the founder of this bank and current manager of the whole kit and caboodle. During your incarceration, you reached the magical age of adulthood and may now claim all of your assets entirely. Unfortunately, over the course of your life, one Albus Dumbledore has had a large influence on your vault as he is your magical guardian."

Unable to contain himself Harry spoke up. "What has Dumbledore been doing with my money?"

Nonplussed, Frenik answered. "Mr. Dumbledore has made various withdrawals from your trust fund over time in the name of the Order of the Phoenix. Every month, this trust fund is refilled to a total of one million galleons from your family vault, which no one but a blood member of the Potter family may access. Fortunately, now that you are of age, you can cut off Mr. Dumbledore's access and you can make withdrawals from you family vault."

Harry nodded, a pensive look on his face. "Make sure that no one but myself may use my vault please."

"Very well Mr. Potter." Frenik scribbled something on a piece of parchment and waved his hand, vanishing it to somewhere else. "There is still another matter we need to talk about Mr. Potter. That is of the other vaults that you have inherited. Your godfather, Sirius Orion Black willed his vault to you. When he was incarcerated, and after when he died in freedom, but still as a guilty man, his will was not followed as per Ministry laws. He has however recently been found innocent, even though it was posthumously. You now have complete access to the Black family vault."

Harry had become very quiet at the mention of his deceased godfather and could do nothing more than nod silently.

"As surprising as this may be to you Mr. Potter, I'm not done yet. It seems that you parents had some blood relations to a few very old bloodlines that they either were unaware of, or unwilling to acknowledge for one reason or another. From your father you inherited the Gryffindor vault. Also, extensive research has shown that your mother was not actually muggleborn, but actually from a long line of squibs who had eventually forgotten about magic. Her ancestry can be traced directly to Salazar Slytherin. In fact, your relation to him is stronger than with the former Dark Lord, making you the undisputed heir of Slytherin."

Green eyes widened in surprise as Harry assimilated this revelation. Well, he was a parselmouth but he always kind of assumed that was because of the curse from Moldy Voldie. Eh, Whatever. All Harry knew was that he had to use his newfound inheritances as ammo against the rest of the traitorous wizarding world. Then he would leave it. Forever.

Clearing his throat Harry regained his composure and addressed the bank manager. "I would like to visit the Potter, Black, Gryffindor and Slytherin vaults please. I have other business to take over before the day is out so I cannot take too long."

"Indeed Mr. Potter. Wait here and I shall call Griphook back to escort you."

That very moment the goblin in question entered the room. "Right this way Mr. Potter."

Harry found himself following Griphook once again before reaching an ornate and comfortable looking cart. Harry barely had time to wonder about its quality compared to those he had been in on previous visits, before he was whisked away by Griphook into the deepest bowels of the bank.

Harry saw many things on that long trip, but had no time to actually register much of it as they steadily picked up speed. The temperature got gradually colder with intermittent bursts of heat when they passed what Harry guessed were the dragons fabled to live here.

They slowed to a stop in front of an ordinary looking, if not large vault with the glowing number '42' inscribed on its door. Griphook stepped up and stroked its side. Harry became confused when it didn't open until Griphook explained.

"This is the Potter family vault Mr. Potter. No goblin can open it without being in the presence of or with the permission of the family head. Place your hand on the door and state your name. If you are the true leader of your family, it will open."

Harry looked skeptic at the choice of words, but did as he was instructed. "Harry James Potter."

The door seemed to melt away from the place where he had put his hand, which dropped limply to his side as he gazed in wonder at the room in front of him.

Piles of Galleons and Knuts and Sickles lay everywhere. Chests brimming with gold jewelry and precious gems were scattered throughout. It was the vision of a typical treasure that all small children dreamed of finding with a treasure map.

Besides the money and jewels lying about, two walls were lined with books and the other walls were covered in various weapons. Most of which looked quite nasty.

Harry pulled out a bag and filled it with galleons before approaching the books. On the way he stopped at several empty trunks looking for one to put his things in. Much to his surprise he found one very much like the multi-chamber trunk that Bartimus Crouch Jr. had possessed when he was masquerading as Mad Eye Moody.

He opened the first lock and found a letter sitting inside. On the front it said 'Harry' in elegant black letters. He only hesitated for a moment before pulling it out and ripping open the envelope.

_My Dearest Son,_

_If you are reading this, then our attempt to hide from the Dark Lord has failed. My greatest wish was always to see you grow up, witness your achievements, failures, everything. However, some things were never meant to be. I can only hope that Albus Dumbledore followed our instructions and sent you to live with Sirius, and barring him, Remus. I made it clear that under no circumstances were you to stay with my sister. As to why, you are better off not knowing. Your arrival in this vault is evidence that you have finally reached your magical majority. It is up to you to pass on the Potter and Evans blood now Harry. I want you to know that your father and I love you so very much._

It was here that Harry noticed the blotches obscuring some letters. _She was crying,_ he thought.

Never ever doubt this. We will watch you from the afterlife and support you always.

_Your mother and father_

_P.S. Son this is your father speaking, er, writing. First of all since we are obviously dead, it was probably because of Peter Pettegrew. Do me a favor and kick his little wormy ass for me? Oh, and prank Sirius too. I still owe him for that frog he enchanted to kiss me insisting I was a princess in disguise. Thanks!_

Harry did not shed a tear at the heartfelt letter though he felt it pull at his emotions mercilessly. His tears had dried up years, lost in the darkness of his little cupboard under the stairs. Placing the letter tenderly in his pocket he stood, closed the trunk and pulled it over towards the books.

After a good ten minutes of title browsing he picked out several books, mostly of the entertainment sort rather than educational. He had little to no use for wizarding knowledge now, as he was planning on leaving.

Closing a now full first compartment of the trunk, he migrated over towards the weapons. During his stay in Azkaban he had decided that no one would ever overpower him again, whether magically or physically. Once he found a life in the muggle world, he planned on learning some sorts of martial arts to keep his mind off things. He pulled down several elegant daggers, both throwing and slashing, a long Japanese Katana or sword, and a shorter one that was its partner called a wakizashi.

Grabbing a few other interesting blades of varying sizes, he packed it all away in the second compartment.

Returning to Griphook he addressed the goblin. "Is there a complete collection of the properties I now own?"

Nodding Griphook replied, "Yes Mr. Potter. If you wish, we shall visit your other vaults and by then I will have compiled a list of all properties and the total amount of money you currently own."

"That would be wonderful." Harry smiled and turned towards the vault door. "Onto the next one."

The next ride was a very short one, for just down the corridor was the Black vault, door emblazoned with the number '36'. This vault was much the same as the Potter vault in everything including a letter lying on a table placed prominently in the center of the room.

Approaching it, Harry braced himself for another emotional roller coaster ride.

_Dear Prongslet,_

_Now that you're all grown up I bet you hate that nickname right? Well tough nuggets kid. Now listen, if you are reading this letter, than I'm dead, and if I got to know anything about you at all during the time we had together, its that you're probably blaming yourself or something. Well, stop it! I knew when signing up in this crazy war of ours that it could get me killed. I don't care what kinda crazy reason you could possibly make, no matter how much sense it seems to you. You're my godson and I love you. Now us Marauders depend on you to continue our legacy seeing as Remus is too much of a goody goody. He was always the last to agree on a prank. However if I remember right, he could be particularly vengeful when in the mood… Anyways, I'm leaving you and Remus all of my worldly belongings, including Grimmauld Place. So now if Dumbledore ever pisses you off (which he has to me on occasion) you can threaten him with eviction! Fun stuff right? Well, have fun with you life, see you when you get here, and please, make me wait._

_Sirius (aka Padfoot)(also aka Snuffles)_

Again, Harry's heart was wrenched at the knowledge of this lost opportunity to have a family. Remus was all he had left now. He would have to seek him out as soon as everything was settled.

Harry grabbed the letter and a few books before nodding to Griphook who led him out the door.

A few minutes of hurtling down deeper into the endless earth later they had reached the next vault. This one had no number, but instead had the word 'Gryffindor' inscribed on the black door in red glowing letters.

With no prompting Harry stepped forward and placed his hand on the door, saying his name. Unlike the Potter and Black vaults, this door simply split in two and retreated into the wall.

Again Harry was aghast at the wealth in the massive room. Shaking it off he moved past the gold piles and reached the books that inhabited a smaller percent of the room than they had in the Potter vault. Scanning the titles, he grabbed several books on physical self-defense and general martial arts.

None of the many weapons filling the rest of the vault struck him at first until he spotted one off in the corner. It seemed to draw him in, and the pulled the innocuous sword out of its scabbard. Amazed, he found himself holding none other than Gryffindors sword. The very one he had used to slay the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.

He turned to Griphook questioningly and the goblin anticipated his inquiry. "Mr. Potter, with powerful heritage weapons and other belongings such as the sword favored by Godric Gryffindor, if the vault is opened by the true heir, then it will return to be found, no matter where it is or who has it. It was a sort of fail-safe powerful wizards put on their most treasured items so that they would be passed onto the true heirs of their lines."

Silently Harry stowed the sword away and followed Griphook back into the cart.

The Slytherin vault was similar to the Gryffindor vault, but the door itself was silver and the lettering in a strange burning black.

Griphook stopped Harry before he opened it this time. "Mr. Potter, Salazar Slytherin was a most suspicious man and did not trust even the our wards, so as an extra precaution, he made it so that you have to speak your name in Parseltongue."

Harry nodded and placed his hand on the wall. As he summoned up a mental picture of a snake he stopped as an old memory resurfaced.

Harry walked through the halls of Hogwarts, for once unaccompanied by Ron and Hermione. First Mrs. Norris, now Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He could hear the conspiratorial whispers follow him everywhere, condemning him as the heir of Slytherin, here to kill all muggle-borns.

Evil, they called him.

He could still hear that voice in the walls, talking about murder… 

The memory switched to a more recent one.

Harry sat dejectedly in his cell staring at the wall. The Dementors hadn't come back yet, but they were due soon. His eyes feverish and glazed, he grabbed a sharp rock on the ground and pushed the dirt on the floor away, revealing the flat rock beneath. As well as he could, he scraped away with his rock for a half hour straight.

_Releasing the stone from his bloodied hands he looked down at his masterpiece. The medium-sized snake bared its fangs and its tongue tasted the air._

_Harry smiled a rare and soft smile. "Hello," he hissed. "Will you be my friend?"_

Harry smiled again, back in the present world, as the snake he had so painstakingly carved into the floor of his cell traced itself on the door in the same glowing black as the name similarly etched in silver. _"Hello friend." _ He hissed. _"its good to see you again."_ Harry spoke his name and watched as thin strips of the door broke away, slowly at first, and then faster as they disappeared into the walls.

Now desensitized to the sight of mountains of gold, Harry simply stepped into the vault and headed for the large library at one side. He spent a considerable amount of time perusing the titles for books he felt would be interesting. The topics he chose included potion making (an art he found much more fascinating when not taught by Snape), rare poisons, snakes, and surprisingly, healing.

Moving on to the weapons, he once again found himself attracted to one in particular. Or more specifically, two.

Hanging on the wall in front of a large painting of the Slytherin crest (two snakes make up the border and the inside is silver and green with two daggers crossed in the center) were two of the most magnificent silver daggers Harry had ever seen. They were about 10 inches long and tapered off to a very deadly looking point. The handles were black with silver lines running through it and the ends were set with glittering emeralds.

Harry slid them out of the holders and hissed with delight. They felt as if they were a part of him. Strangely more so than Gryffindor's sword had. Shrugging, Harry pulled down the belt and sheaths for his new weapons and put them all on. It felt good to have their weight by his side.

Harry then exited the vault and sat in the cart where Griphook joined him on a last trip to the surface.

At the end of the very long ride, Griphook led him back to the office of Frenik Gringott. Mr. Gringott smiled, his fingers laced together on his desk as he addressed Harry cordially. "Griphook has informed me that you wish to have a report on all the properties and monies that you currently posses?"

Harry nodded, wondering when Griphook had told him, for they had been down in the vaults together the whole time. He shrugged mentally and listened to Frenik.

Frenik cleared his throat and held up a long piece of parchment. "Your total monies come to approximately 834,590,000 galleons. Your major properties include Godric Hollow, the Potter mansion, 12 Grimmauld Place, Gryffindor Castle, and the Slytherin Estate. You also own various vacation homes amongst the muggles in America, Australia, Japan and Ireland."

Harry blinked twice and nodded, dumbfounded. Regaining himself he asked something he had been thinking about for a while now. "Is there any way for me to withdraw money from my vaults without coming here every time?"

The Goblin manager looked carefully at Harry and nodded. "There is a privilege we reserve for the patrons we believe can afford it." He pulled out a black silk drawstring bag, only big enough to fit a fist in. "For a 20 galleon fee, you can have this bag. All you need to do is open it and think of the amount you wish to withdraw and you will have it. It is spelled to only work with you, it is feather light at all times, it has a notice-me-not charm on it and if lost or stolen it will inexorably return. Very useful."

Harry listened happily. "Sold." He then remembered his other question. "Do you have anything that could do the same only with muggle money?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter. We have a muggle style credit card that will work at any muggle store or ATM. Would you like an explanation on what that all is?"

Harry shook his head as he took the proffered bag and card. "I must say Mr. Gringott, it has been a pleasure doing business with you. I cannot thank you and Griphook enough."

Harry was slightly surprised to see the normally unflappable manager lose his composure for a moment at the praise.

Straight-faced again, Frenik shook Harry's hand. "It's good to see that not all wizards have the seemingly inborn disdain for non-humans. I look forward to much business from you Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled. "Call me Harry please."

He watched with no small amusement as the goblin face-faulted again.

"Very well Harry, but only if you call me Frenik. Until next time then."

Harry nodded and walked out the doors Griphook had just opened, smiling pleasantly at the diminutive creature, who also stumbled for a moment.

Harry breathed in a breath of the fresh air, thankful to be outside after his long journey through underground London.

He readjusted his hood and made his way to the Leaky Cauldron. Paying no heed to anyone in the bar, he disappeared among the throngs of muggles, discreetly casting a notice-me-not charm on himself. He made his way towards a nice looking, but relatively empty café nearby. Sitting down, he ordered a cup of coffee, black, and pulled out the parchment listing his properties.

Sipping the bitter life giver, he decided to visit his new house in Japan. He paid, left and found a dark alley where he could apparate from without arousing suspicion.

Smiling at the sight of the small beautiful house and cherry blossoms falling all around, he entered the house without a second thought. He bypassed most of the rooms, sparing them only a peek before finding one that suited him and falling on the bed and into grateful oblivion.

End Chapter 2

I'm so so _so_ sorry about how long it took me to get this out. I'm not a very fast writer in the first place, but now I had plenty of elements against me. Lots of schoolwork, short vacation in Vermont, I lost a couple pages at one point, and then I was grounded so now I have restricted access. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed!

Fangalla Marie and Eppy the House Elf: eep! So scary. Actually I have read your story already. I love it! Thanks for the motivation!

solareclipse117: heres an update for u aoshi!

Superchibi: don't worry youre not pushy, im just lazy!

Quillian: traitor bashing is certainly in the foreseeable future. Meh heh heh…

magicslifer: I love Azkaban betrayal stories too. So I wrote one! But you know all about that…

Weirkat: don't worry, harry will make it almost impossible for them to gain his forgiveness… muah ha ha!

Legion: hopefully the voices will come to me and write themselves in the story…

Until next time folks! I'll try my darn toot'n hardest! Or you could all just call me a failure cause I am… ;

Don't forget, please review! Common, you know you wanna! Just clicky that button. Its fun and easy! Yay! I'll shut up now.


	3. Chapter 3

AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! Could it be?!? An update by the missing and presumed dead sarah-sama? It could! OMFGWTFROFLLOLBRBW/E!!!!!!!! Don't kill me!

Pain of Memories

Chapter 3

Eyes filled with loathing hatred bored holes into his limp form. Words filled with spite and malice cut through his feverish thoughts. The fire… the fire! All was burning… burning!

Harry tossed and turned moaning in pain. His agony increased every moment and the moans escalated into full-fledged cries of anguish as long slashes carved their way across the torso of the boy-who-regretfully-lived.

Bloodshot eyes shot open and for a moment he merely lay there breathing heavily as his blood soaked already over saturated sheets.

Sitting up, Harry noticed the pain consciously for the first time and his face broke into a huge grin as mad chuckles fell from his lips like poison from a very sharp blade. He watched, fascinated as the crimson life-sustaining liquid rolled down his skin to drip onto the floor.

Shaking himself suddenly, Harry began to speak softly. "No time for fun silly Harry, stuff to do dontcha know."

He nodded to himself in a matter of fact way and swung himself out of the bed. Looking over at a full-length mirror across the room his frowned at his pale sickly form covered in long, still bleeding gashes. His frown grew and brows furrowed in concentration before the cuts healed and his body seemed to revitalize in fast-forward. When he was done his body could have been chiseled out of stone.

The frown disappeared, replaced by an almost childlike grin as he surveyed his work. "If only I coulda done this at school!" His face darkened again. "School…"

He distractedly waved is hand and the nondescript pants he had fallen asleep in were replaced by an outfit with more attitude. Black baggy pants with chains hanging from the pockets adorned his lower body and the look was completed by a black short sleeve muscle shirt that clung to his abs almost sinfully, leaving nothing to the imagination.

His hair had grown out during his stay in Azkaban and Harry disliked the feel of it across his shoulders so he shortened it and made it spike up tipping the ends with green and silver. He paused, seemingly surprised by his unconscious choice of colors. "Slytherin colors… Ickle Ronnie'll like that. Heh heh…"

The last step in his preparation for the day was to grab Slytherins daggers from the ground where they had fallen, and strap them about his waist. He practiced drawing them a couple times and swung them about finding the use of them to be a completely natural and effortless thing for him to do. "_Perfect,_" he hissed in Parsletongue.

Sheathing them again, he strode confidently from the room, passing a few other simple Japanese style rooms before reaching the small kitchen. His stomach made itself know by rumbling with hunger. Harry scowled. "Oh quiet you. We never had much food in prison and now that we're better off you decide to start bothering me again?" His stomach rumbled louder in protest. "Ok ok you got me. But I'm not making anything. Lets go out. Hmm… can I speak Japanese? Eh, lets find out."

He placed a concealing charm on his daggers and conjured some shoes when he reached the door. Passing through he found himself in a medium sized, quiet alley, brightly lit by the cheerful sun and framed by the leaves and petals of the trees that overhung the fences of the other houses all around. The scent of cherry blossoms permeated the air and Harry sighed a little as he watched several of the pale pink flowers flitted across his vision, carried by the wind.

A great peace fell across the boy-now-man's mind as he soaked in the beauty of the scene. However this was a momentary relief and he found himself once again absorbed in dark thoughts and hidden anguish.

Setting off in a random direction the only things that were on his mind were finding a good place to eat and trying to make sure he would be able to find his way home.

Upon emerging into the main thoroughfare of the city he had landed in, he was immediately swept into crowds of Japanese people walking, riding bikes or driving to their many destinations. Slightly uncomfortable of the large number of people but confident in his anonymity, Harry struck off heading hopefully towards a café somewhere.

Not 30 seconds later, he located a small shop that advertised soups and fish foods of different types. As he approached it his course was suddenly diverted when he bumped into a short girl about 18 years of age rushing about with arms full of bags. Harry was unmoved but the girl was cast to the ground, and her bags strewn across the path.

From her place on the ground she brought her hand up to her head and said, "Itai…(1)" Looking up at the nearly 6'5'' Harry Potter she quickly gasped out, "Eh? Gomen, gomen nasai(2)!"

Harry smiled and held out his hand to help her up. "Iie(3), it was my fault I should have looked where I was going." The Japanese words fell easily from his lips and he thought amusedly, _"That answers that question"_

He helped her gather her stuff together and watched amused as she sped off into the distance, almost running into someone else. Seeing her innocence and childishness even at the age of 18 reminded Harry of he was when he was 18, and his mood soured again.

Putting off the darkness that constantly threatened his mind, Harry turned and entered the shop. Upon sitting down, he quickly saw that the restaurant specialized in something called, 'Okonomiyaki'. He shrugged and ordered it. When asked what kind he would like, he decided upon vegetable.

Not much later, he was presented with what looked kind of like an omelet or pizza. Harry poked it, and then threw caution to the winds and awkwardly wielded his chopsticks to taste the foreign food. To his surprise the meal was both delicious and satisfying, so now that his stomach had stopped complaining, he could explore this new world a little bit. He knew that he would at some time have to return to England and face some things, but first he needed to work on stabilizing his mind.

At that thought he didn't even notice the strange lopsided grin that made its way across his face, and he certainly didn't notice how the area around him wasn't quite as crowded, despite the still large number of people.

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12 Grimmauld Place was in chaos. The shock caused by the news of Harry's innocence still had not worn off and everyone wanted to know where the boy-who-lived-and-killed-Voldemort-and-now-has-a-lot-of-hyphens-in-his-name was.

Ron had not left his room; he was too busy wallowing in depression. Hermione had woken up from her faint several hours ago and had not stopped crying since, unable to seek solace in her boyfriend's, Ron's, arms. Arthur had not been able to indulge in his grief as his duties as the new Minister called him away to deal with the whole event, while his wife Molly cooked up every single bit of food she could possibly remember that Harry had liked, crying the entire time. Ginny sat on a chair in her room waiting…

Dumbledore was still at Hogwarts. Or at least he had been.

The door burst open and Dumbledore strode briskly in. The only hint everyone had that something was wrong was the grim expression on his face and the depressed slump of the normally straight-backed wizard. "Everyone, there will be an impromptu Order meeting in the parlor. As soon as we're all there we will begin."

5 minutes later Grimmauld Place's parlor was filled to the brim, bursting at the seams with anxious people waiting to hear the update on Harry.

Dumbledore looked about, with a weary, serious expression on his face. "As Mr. Weasley might have told you, a couple nights ago, Voldemort attacked Azkaban and freed Harry Potter. Harry was given a wand to kill me with but instead turned and killed Voldemort and every single Death Eater who had been present. The only surviving Death Eater is Severus Snape who was tending to a volatile potion and could not join the raid. I managed to stun Harry afterwards and brought him back to Hogwarts to be healed." Here Dumbledore paused and sighed. "Just yesterday he woke up and at first seemed not to recognize me, but when he did he lashed out at me, breaking my arm and disappeared in a great flash of light. I was detained in the infirmary by Madame Pomfrey until my arm was healed and now I am here."

Whispers broke out and Molly stood up, frantic. "But where is Harry? Where is he now? Is he safe?!"

Dumbledore held up his hand to silence everyone. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that Molly. It was supposed to be impossible the apparate to or from Hogwarts as I'm sure Hermione here has mentioned several times, so he could be anywhere."

Ron spoke up next. "We've got to try and look! We have to have him back! He was my best mate and I treated him like shit! He just has to forgive me!"

At the end of the table, Ginny rose, with a grim expression on her face. "Harry has been damaged beyond our comprehension. To expect him to forgive us would be folly. I just hope he will believe the fact that I never lost faith in him." She stood there, face unchanging as silent tears made their way down her face.

She looked up all the sudden. "And what of Remus? Where has he been all this time?!"

Dumbledore looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Well, when he refused to believe in Harry's guilt I thought it was the best for everyone if I sent him on a mission to recruit various werewolf clans to support our cause."

Ginny spluttered in disbelief. "Does he even _know_ that Harry's out of Azkaban? Where exactly is he?!"

Dumbledore hung his head. "I lost contact with him a few months ago somewhere in the forests of Russia. I haven't heard from him since."

Everyone gasped and the flurry of whispers started up again. Ginny simply whirled about and stomped to her room.

Dumbledore watched her go in sadness. How on earth could he ever make this right again?

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Harry continued to familiarize himself with the streets of what he had found out was Kyoto, the capital of Japan until the beginning of the Meiji Era in the 1870's. He experimented with various Japanese snacks and was intrigued by the variety of strange things one could buy from a vending machine. He chuckled to himself. You could live off those things!

He found himself on the outskirts of the city, in a more rural and quiet area. As he passed a traditional style dojo, he heard the unmistakable clash of sword on sword and decided to go investigate.

The building was just as simple inside as it was out, and just like everything else in Japan, Harry found this quite refreshing.

The room was empty except for a young teenage boy down on his hands and knees scrubbing furiously at the floor, a determined look on his face. He paused and looked up at the large, clearly foreign stranger that had entered and immediately got to his feet.

Bowing he addressed Harry. "Ah, Please excuse, are you here to meet with someone sir?"

Harry eyed the young man with curiosity and bowed back. "Yes in fact I am. Though I am not sure who it is I am looking for."

The boy nodded as if this were the most natural thing in the world to say. "That happens most often here. I will take you to the master now."

Harry just shrugged and followed the boy as he turned and walked down a corridor behind him. Harry could hear the sounds of the mock fight going on just behind the thin paper walls of the hallway, but soon passed it. He sighed in disappointment. _I guess I'm not going to see a demonstration today._

They reached the end of the hall and just as the boy was about to knock on the door, an old sounding voice sounded out, "Come in, please."

Harry was irritated at the reminder of Dumbledore and his annoying habit of doing the same thing, but such thoughts disappeared when he entered the dojo and was faced by the oldest most feeble-looking man he had ever seen. Sitting cross-legged on a cushion, the man wore a simple Japanese sword fighting outfit and the only hair on his body was either growing straight down from his chin or curling a little out of his ears.

Harry couldn't help but feel that it was people like this that the stereotype of martial arts masters being helpless looking old men was based on.

Suddenly the man spoke. "You have a great amount of Ki young warrior. Almost more than such an old man can bear with such old eyes." The man's eyes opened up a little and he grinned at Harry. "What is it you seek here?"

Harry looked at him intensely for a moment and responded. "Answers."

The man made a small sound of understanding. "Many people seek such a thing. You have a difficult path, and wish for advice."

Harry nodded.

The man stood up. "Come, let us fight." He picked up an old wooden cane from the ground beside him and smiled again.

Harry eyed him suspiciously, but obliged and drew his daggers. Letting the excitement of battle take him he rushed the old man with a cry and a crazed grin. He didn't even see the cane move, and yet seconds later he was on the ground rubbing the bump on his head, his daggers on the ground a few meters away. He looked up at the smirking man in irritation.

"You must defeat your own demons to move on young warrior. It may be easier for you to turn your back on the past, but it will never go away. The world must learn from its mistakes or be doomed to repeat them."

Harry leapt up, enraged. "How am I to face them?! When _they_ are the ones who cast me aside into the pits of hell without the slightest hesitation! 3 years I spent reliving my parents death, my trial where I was betrayed by everyone I ever loved and even ever time Moldy Pants decided to do a spot of torturing!"

The man stood, unperturbed. "Hatred will only lead to a path of darkness. Do you wish for that?"

Harry deflated a little. "No… but I fear the madness will never leave me."

The man grinned again. "Young warrior, we are all a bit crazy on the inside! I myself enjoy spending time having tea parties with all of the imaginary opponents I fight while I train. It is what makes you and I human. Your task now is to learn to live with your pain and move on." The man turned and returned to his cushion. Sitting down he addressed Harry once more. "Now shoo. I have guests coming, and so do you."

Harry blinked bewilderedly, and shrugged before leaving the dojo. It was only when he got outside that he realized he had forgotten Slytherin's daggers. Cursing his carelessness he dashed back inside only to stop in confusion. The entrance room was covered in dust and it was poorly lit. Obviously no one had been there in a long time. It was the same all the way to the room at the end of the hall.

Harry found his daggers on the floor, the only thing there not covered in the grime of age. Harry was puzzled but decided not to dwell too much on the entire event as he didn't feel ready to even think about some of the things he had heard.

So deep were his thoughts that he barely noticed when he bumped into yet another random girl on the street. "Excuse me," he mumbled.

It didn't even register when the voice that responded was decidedly British in origin. "It's quite alright. I was busy thinking about something. My bad." The mystery woman looked up. "Harry!"

That got Harry's attention. "Cho! What are you doing in Japan?"

The Chinese girl quirked an eyebrow. "I could say the same for you. I'm on vacation right now." She glanced at her watch. "Oh my god I promised my parents I'd meet them for dinner ten minutes ago! I'm so sorry Harry, for everything. I never could believe you would do that. Please believe me! I've got to go, but I would love to catch up with you sometime." With that she pulled him into a brief hug and turned around. She paused and looked back for a second. "Nice look by the way," and then she was gone.

Harry stood there for several moments, completely confused yet again. _Ugh, I forgot life was so much more confusing outside of Azkaban. Less sucky, but definitely more complex._

He abandoned all such thoughts in favor of returning to his humble Japanese abode. With a flick of his hand, a thin strand of yellow light seen only by him led him in the direction of his house. _Tee hee, yellow equals happy!_

He once again all but collapsed on the low futon in his bedroom. Wandlessly casting a cleaning spell on himself and transfiguring his clothes into pajamas, he surrendered to sleep once again.

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Albus had to shoot sparks out of his wand to get the attention of everyone in the Order. "All right everyone today I'm going to assemble search parties to find Harry. Nymphadora and Re-"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Cho Chang walked in a grinned a little sheepishly. "I'm sorry I'm late. The portkey from Japan was late."

Albus smiled at her. "It's quite alright my dear. I trust your vacation was enjoyable?" Cho nodded and so Dumbledore continued. "So onto the search parties. Nymphadora and Remus you will be first to patrol Diagon Alley. Needless, to say you should check Gringotts, any Quidditch stores, restaurants, etc. Anywhere you think Harry might be."

Cho once again got a sheepish look on her face and raised her hand. "Um, I don't think you'll find Harry there sir."

Ron leapt to his feet. "And why not? What do _you _know!"

Similar outcries burst out of the group and several more sparks from Dumbledore's wand were necessary to calm them down. "Thank you. Now Ms. Chang, would you please explain this claim?"

Cho recovered from the chaos and responded. "Because I saw him in Kyoto, Japan while I was on vacation."

Bedlam broke out once again. Albus sighed. It was going to be a long night.

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_Hermione's face appeared out of the darkness. "Harry I can't believe you would turn Dark! After all we did for you! Your nothing but a slimy Slytherin!"_

_She was joined by Ron. "You had everything and I had nothing! Why did you do this to us?"_

_Next came Remus whose voice was uncharacteristically biting and acerbic. "I considered you my son Harry! Your parents would be ashamed!"_

_Cedric's face swam into view. "If only you'd just gone yourself! Then I'd still be alive!"_

_He faded away and was replaced by Sirius. "You are no better than Wormtail you little traitor! Your foolishness murdered me!"_

_Then came the killing blow. Fury was etched across James' face as he spat, "You are no son of mine! Never would I have spawned such evil!"_

_Lily was sobbing at his side. "How could you do this to us Harry? What ever did we do!"_

_Everyone crowded around Harry, who was unable to say a word, verbally cursing him and accusing him of their deaths._

_A deep cackling laugh shook Harry's dreaming mind as he heard Voldemort's voice shout out "Avada Kedavra!" accompanied by a blinding flash of green light._

"Nooooo!!!!" Harry shot out of bed and immediately doubled over in pain. His head felt like it was splitting in two, and his nails began to scratch at his own skin, tearing it in a vain effort to relieve the agony.

Paralyzed in pain as he was, he failed to notice as he was grabbed by several pairs of hands and a dreamless sleep potion forced down his throat.

A/n

(1)Itai – Japanese equivalent of "ouch"

(2)Gomen - sorry Gomen nasai – I'm really sorry

(3)Iie - No

oh so evil I am!!! I make you all wait for like, ever for an update and then I give you a cliffie!! Consider this my guarantee to try and make sure such a lapse in writing never happens again!

I want to thank all the people who reviewed especially those who reviewed even when they saw that this hadn't been updated in forever and a day. So thanks to summersgirl2526, acepro Evolution, Bobmin356, Amber Stag (who saw my Les Miserables reference ), KiraraKat, Alorkin, Olaf74, mooneasterbunny, solareclipse117, jabarber69, Loonytunes, granite69, Paula79, Dragonero, Satan's Buttplug, Weirkat, femaleprongslet, athenakitty, and Quillian

Reviews are my life-blood so clicky that button and tell me what you think. See ya!

sarah-sama


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